Differences

By
On the city bus that day,
I had no where to seat.
So I sat next to this women,
much older than me.
Her face changed,
it was no longer sweet,
she looked puzzled,
and uncomfortable in her seat.
I did not know why everyone was staring.
Was I doing something wrong,
or something outstanding?
I took another glance at the lady,
who had inched further away,
her skin was darker,
anyone would have noticed this
at any time of day.
Her skin was flawless,
unimpaired,
and pristine.
She had inky
brown eyes,
as wide as can be.
And her hair was frayed,
and held together
by ribbon
weak
and swede.
She was black,
I was white.
So what?...
We are still the same...
aren't we?
Every other white person looked at me...
in disgust.
Why were me and the lady being treated
unjust?





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